


A Pirate's Life (is definitely not) For Me

by MickyRC



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: (or at least pirate adjacent), (possibly), Aziraphale is "just enough of a bastard to be worth knowing" (Good Omens), Aziraphale is So Done (Good Omens), Crowley is Good With Kids (Good Omens), F/F, Hair Braiding, Ineffable Wives | Female Aziraphale/Female Crowley (Good Omens), Literal Sleeping Together, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Pirates, She/Her Pronouns for Aziraphale (Good Omens), She/Her Pronouns for Crowley (Good Omens), THERE WAS ONLY ONE BED, almost no attempt at historical accuracy is being made here
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-31
Updated: 2020-11-04
Packaged: 2021-03-08 17:14:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,370
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27310264
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MickyRC/pseuds/MickyRC
Summary: When Aziraphale's assignment to bring a crew of pirates to the light goes... poorly, she ends up on a little island in the Caribbean, still in need of meeting her blessings quota. And, of course, who else should be on that little island but a certain demon on holiday?
Relationships: Aziraphale & Crowley (Good Omens), Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Comments: 5
Kudos: 21
Collections: Ineffable Wives Exchange 2020





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [dontbelasagnax](https://archiveofourown.org/users/dontbelasagnax/gifts).



> For dontbelasagnax for the Ineffable Wives Exchange! She gave me the prompts "hair braiding" and "only one bed" and I went... somewhere. Not entirely sure when the pirates showed up. Anyway, those prompts did not make it into this chapter, but rest assured they're coming! I hope you enjoy!

_ The Caribbean, 1712 _

The water was warm, at least. That was a blessing. It was enough that she had to miracle the salt to stop stinging her eyes; Aziraphale really didn’t need to be explaining why she’d heated a specific corner of the Caribbean Sea to head office.

Then again, sometimes she wondered just how much attention head office was actually paying. They hadn’t seemed to fully grasp the concept of a pirate, at the very least.

“Just a quick assignment, this time!” Gabriel had promised. “Shouldn’t be too hard, even for you. Uriel’s got this idea we’ll be more efficient if the humans we’re trying to sway towards the light are ones already close to the edge. Not as far to push them, see?”

“Er,” Aziraphale had said.

“Knew you’d catch on fast! All you have to do is go in and take over as leader of the ship, so you can  _ lead _ them towards grace. Get it? Leader?”

“Yes, Gabriel, I get it.” And then, when he seemed to be waiting for more, “That’s quite clever.”

“Isn’t it? Sandalphon came up with it. So good with words. Anyway, I’ve added enough miracles to your quarterly record to get you set up with the pirates. Try not to go over again, will you?”

Aziraphale’s face began to burn. “Yes, of course. I’ll try to be less… frivolous.”

“Thatta girl! I’m sure just a little effort on your part will do the trick.”

“Mm. Er, one thing, Gabriel, is uh… are you  _ sure _ you want me going onto a  _ pirate ship?” _

“Absolutely! Don’t worry, can’t be much different from what you’re doing already, right? Aren’t you stationed on an island?”

“I… suppose? But—”

“There you go! Islands, water, ships, all the same. I’m sure the pirates will be just charming.”

Aziraphale had sighed, and left the office without further resistance.

The pirates, of course, had not been charming. in fact they had been so very not-charming that Aziraphale couldn’t even pretend to be disappointed to be off the ship.

The tossing over the side had been a bit much, though.

“Ruffians,” Aziraphale muttered. It came out mostly as bubbles, but it made her feel better. Brushing a curious fish away from her sleeve, she took the underwater equivalent of a steadying breath, and began to swim towards the surface.

The ship had already turned away by the time she breached the waves. Aziraphale glared it down and spit saltwater out of her mouth while she considered her best course of action.

She could catch up to the ship, of course. Would hardly have to swim, if she bent the current just a bit out of shape. That would show the brutes. They were a superstitious lot; they’d drop the rudeness and listen up if Aziraphale popped back on deck dry as a bone.

Or they’d declare her a witch and toss her overboard again. Which had been unpleasant enough the first time, thank you very much.

Plan B, then. There was an island clearly in view, a perfectly swimmable distance. Supposedly abandoning shipmates in the middle of open water wasn’t the done thing, even in the midst of a mutiny. And as much as Aziraphale hated to do as the pirates wanted, getting to the island was more responsible than sitting on the ocean floor and moping for a few weeks.

“Island it is,” she said, and turned toward the line of trees and sand, stopping just long enough to flash a dirty look and a rude gesture at the retreating ship.

As she went, letting the current carry her more than not, she considered how she was going to explain this in her report. She was almost certainly going to be reprimanded; Gabriel had been very clear that this was meant to be a simple assignment. Nevermind that most pirates didn’t  _ want _ their souls saved, and were overall inclined to mistrust that kind of talk from anyone,  _ especially _ their captain.

“Honestly, what do they think pirates are?” Aziraphale asked a passing fish. “They just drop me in there, no backstory, no reasoning, and expect me to earn their respect. Me! An angel, earning the respect of ruffians and thieves!” Aziraphale shook her head in disbelief. The fish was unimpressed. “Easy my foot,” she muttered, and brought herself back to the surface to see how much farther there was to go.

The island ahead looked on the small side, though Aziraphale couldn’t tell very clearly from the water. There was a stripe of yellow beach before tufts of long grass and brush began to grow, followed by palm trees and denser foliage. Livable for a human, certainly. There were probably coconuts growing somewhere, Aziraphale supposed, or other sources of food among the plant life.

Well. At least there wasn’t anything to miss on the ship. She didn’t know how the humans could stand it, the food was so horrible. If Aziraphale hadn’t had to pretend to have a normally functioning human body she would never have touched the stuff.

The sand was irritatingly unsteady when Aziraphale stomped up the beach, slipping and stumbling every few steps. She considered snapping her clothes dry, but decided against it; damp trousers might be uncomfortable, but the equatorial heat was just unbearable. At least like this she steamed instead of burning.

“Oh!” Aziraphale cried, reaching for her head and finding only short damp curls. “Oh, my hat!” It had been a nice hat. A little large, perhaps, and the fluffy white feather had been a bit much, but it had helped her feel in character as the captain of a dastardly band of pirates. And now it was probably floating alone somewhere on the ocean. And, more importantly, Aziraphale had nothing to keep her face out of the sun.

Sighing and grieving the loss of her hat, Aziraphale turned towards the treeline. Her corporation’s skin burnt horribly in the sun, and the single week she’d spent on the sea hadn’t been enough to build up any kind of protective tan. If she didn’t want to look like a lobster by the end of the day, she’d better get into the shade.

But as she reached the first patch of dune grass, a flash of movement deeper in the foliage caught her eye.

“Hello?” she called.

Nothing. Just a seagull overhead, the waves crashing on the sand, and the rustle of palm trees in the sea breeze.

And then the shuffle of running feet through the grass.

“Wait!” Aziraphale rushed after the noise. “Wait, please!” A flash of red fabric dashed around a tree and Aziraphale followed. If there were people here, she might be able to salvage her assignment. Gabriel might think to check how many total souls she had secured, but he was unlikely to check  _ whose _ souls they were.

It wasn’t far before the trees started getting thicker, and the figure ahead had more and more chances to disappear. Aziraphale put on a burst of speed as they neared a clearing, determined to catch up before the figure vanished for good. Another flash of red cut around the clearing to the left. Aziraphale followed, crashing through the trees as she finally started to gain on them. She could still only see glimpses of them, but there was too much undergrowth for stealth.

Suddenly the loud rustling stopped. Aziraphale hesitated, then plowed on toward where she’d heard it last. They must have stopped running. She could catch up, could explain she meant no harm and only wanted help, and all would be well. Everything was going to be just  _ fine. _

And then she stumbled out of the trees onto another beach with no figure in sight. Not even a footprint in the sand. Nothing but waves crashing and a gull overhead and an enormous lack of souls she could save.

“Oh for  _ heaven’s sake!” _ Aziraphale shouted at the sea. Could  _ nothing _ go right? “I am an angel of the  _ bloody Lord, _ can I not have  _ one ounce _ of good luck?!”

Fuming, she turned to storm down the beach and find out if there were people here on her  _ own, _ thank you very much. But as she stomped past the trees, she was stopped by a yelp and a sudden explosion of sand behind her.

_ “Angel?!” _

Aziraphale whipped around. There, staring up at her out of a tangle of sand and long hair and maroon skirts, were a pair of very yellow, very familiar eyes.

“Crowley! What—”

“What the  _ heaven _ are you doing here?” Crowley stumbled upright. “Gave me a bloody heart attack, ang—ACK!”

Aziraphale jumped forward and caught Crowley’s arm as she slipped in the loose sand. Helping her straighten up, she noticed a leaf in the demon’s tangled hair. When she pulled it out, she saw another behind it, and what looked like a twig.

Aziraphale blinked and looked up at the trees above where Crowley had appeared. One of the palm trees was swinging gently, like it was slowly losing momentum. Aziraphale’s eyebrows shot up.

“Were you  _ in the tree?” _ she asked.

Crowley scoffed and pulled away to straighten out her dress. “Well it worked, didn’t it?” she said irritably. “You lost track of me.”

“Yes, but you  _ fell out—” _

“I was startled! Hell’s sake, angel, I wasn’t exactly expecting  _ you _ to pop up here. Thought you were still in London.”

Aziraphale sniffed. “I was. Head office decided to send me out here for an assignment.”

Crowley tilted her head sympathetically. “Not going well?”

“There have been a few… setbacks.”

“Mmm.”

They stood in silence for a moment. Aziraphale watched Crowley staring out over the sea, wondering what the demon was doing here. Wondering how she’d somehow managed to wash up on the same island as her. Aziraphale did her best not to think about it, but sometimes the coincidental meetings seemed to be a bit too designed for pure chance. Ineffable, she supposed.

“Gonna get dark soon,” Crowley said suddenly. “Sun’s going down.”

“Oh.” Sure enough, the sun was starting to dip near the water off to their right, tinging the sky pink. A salty breeze blew across the beach, and Aziraphale shivered.

“You could stay at my place, if you like,” Crowley offered. Her voice was casual. “‘s not much, but better than sitting outside all night, yeah?”

Something in Aziraphale’s chest lurched uncomfortably. “I’m—I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

Crowley shrugged. “Suit yourself.” Aziraphale couldn’t help but think she shouldn’t know the demon well enough to notice when her shoulders went tight.

“Are there many other people here, then?” Aziraphale asked quickly. Change the subject. Get back on steady ground.

Blessedly, Crowley took the opening. “Handful. Little village-y thing, few houses. Ships come by for fresh water sometimes and leave supplies, so it’s a pretty solid little place.”

“Oh. I wasn’t expecting that many.”

“It’s nice. I’ll show you around, later.”

“That’s kind of you.”

Crowley hissed under her breath.

“Oh don’t be like that, Crowley.”

“I’ll be like that if I want.”

Aziraphale tsked and rolled her eyes toward the sky as if she were looking for answers. Instead she was met with a sky going orange and sparse clouds turning a very pretty purple, and decided she wasn’t in the mood for bickering right then.

Crowley stared at her as she marched past towards where the waves were lapping against the sand and plopped herself down on the beach. “What are you doing?” she asked.

“You may not have noticed it, but there is a beautiful sunset just waiting to be watched.  And I have had an absolutely horrible day, so I am going to sit here and look at the sky and possibly get myself very drunk before the night is out. You’re welcome to join me if you’d like.”

Crowley made a strange sound behind her, but Aziraphale didn’t turn. It really had been an awful day, and she fully intended to make good on her plan whether or not the demon joined her.

She couldn’t help the little thrill she felt when Crowley sat down beside her, though.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I THOUGHT I PUT THIS UP YESTERDAY AND FORGOT I'M SO SORRY. Still aiming for every other day posts and hopefully will do better about that!

“They actually  _ threw you overboard?” _

“They did!” Aziraphale cried, indignant. “There wasn’t even a plank or anything, they just stood me up on the railing and shoved me!”

Crowley made an undignified snorting sound. She was hiding her face behind the bottle of wine they were passing between them, but Aziraphale could still see her grin.

“It’s not funny,” she pouted.

“It is, a bit,” Crowley said, but she passed the bottle, and Aziraphale accepted despite the glare she threw at her.

“Well you’ll see how funny it is when I’m off in that village thwarting you at every turn. I’m not going back to Gabriel without some blessings to show for it, he’ll be…”

“An absolute jerkface?”

_ “Less than thrilled.” _

“Same difference with that one. Anyway, bless all you want, I’m not working.”

Aziraphale blinked. “Not…?”

“Nah,” Crowley drawled, leaning back and stretching her feet out on the sand. “Set up a backlog of temptations and such a few months back. Reports all filled out, dated through the next year. Automatic timer to send them in.”

“Oh.” Aziraphale processed that. It seemed an awful lot of work to do all in advance. “Why?”

Crowley dug her toe in the sand. She didn’t answer for a long minute, staring at the patterns she was idly twisting into the sand. “Needed a break,” she eventually said, softly, not looking up. “Head office has been a bit… I dunno.”

“Hellish?” Aziraphale offered. She smiled when it earned her a snort from Crowley.

“Well they haven’t been any less so, that’s for sure. I dunno, they just kept popping up in London. Kept running into other demons all over the place. Couldn’t get a breather.”

“Do you think they’re up to something?” Aziraphale asked, suddenly concerned, but Crowley waved her off.

“Just the usual stuff. Temptations, soul buying. Maybe a bit more concentrated, but there’s been worse. Rome was a nightmare. Couldn’t even get in a decent nap there were so many demons lurking around.”

“So you, what, just… needed some space?”

Crowley shrugged.

“Am I…” Aziraphale swallowed. Her heart was beating just a little too fast, making its presence known, and not for the first time she wished she knew how to slow it down. But she didn’t, so she pushed herself on. “Am I intruding, then?” she asked. Her voice wobbled just a bit at the end, so she took a swig of wine to cover it.

But Crowley was shaking her head. “Not unless you’ve decided to secretly change sides and you’re spying on me for Hell.”

Aziraphale gasped and swatted a lump of sand at the grinning demon. “Don’t even joke about that.”

“Or what, you’ll make me swab the deck? Have me walk the plank?”

“You  _ horrible _ demon!”

Crowley rolled away from Aziraphale’s next spray of sand, laughing as she sprawled out a few feet away. “Oh, Terrible Pirate Aziraphale, spare me! Have mercy!”

“Remind me why I put up with you.”

“How’d the pirating go, anyway?” Crowley asked, ignoring Azirpahle’s comment. “Before, y’know, getting chucked over—”

“Do you  _ have _ to keep bringing that up?”

“Yes. So were you a looting ship, or more of an adventure seeker? Were you going after other ships, or—?”

“Neither,” Aziraphale said, and fell backwards with a huff, an obliging pile of sand appearing to keep her mostly upright. “The idea was to convince the pirates  _ not _ to do that sort of thing. Which, as you can imagine, went over swimmingly.”

Crowley blinked. “You… were trying to convince pirates to… not do pirate things? While pretending to be a pirate yourself?”

“I’m not the one who came up with the idea.”

“Does… are you sure Heaven actually knows what a pirate is?”

“That’s what I thought!” Aziraphale cried. “They didn’t even give me a sword, I had to sneak one off one of the crew!”

“Well, not to defend them, but to be fair your track record when it comes to swords is—”

“You say one more word and I am going to take the wine and leave.”

Crowley’s mouth snapped shut.

They sat in silence for a while, listening to the waves and occasionally passing the bottle. Aziraphale stared out towards the horizon, made invisible by the ink of the sky blending with the void of the ocean. The only places she could tell the difference was where the stars twinkled, or where moonlight turned the sea to silver.

“I don’t think they really understand violence,” Aziraphale said softly.

When she didn’t continue, Crowley nudged her to pass the wine and took a deep draw. “They’re a bit loud about the need for holy war for that, angel.”

“No, you’re right, but it’s… I mean that’s the humans. Or them doing it  _ to _ the humans, but there’s… there’s nothing that does violence to any of  _ them. _ Angels don’t kill angels. Angels don’t  _ hurt _ angels, and who else is there, up...? Even—even, take theft. No angel has anything another could take from them. It’s not something they even take into consideration. Violence is all theoretical, up there.”

Crowley hummed, whether in consideration or disagreement Aziraphale couldn’t tell. She wasn’t looking at Aziraphale. Instead she gazed up, where the moon was starting to drop towards the horizon, leaving the stars at the apex of the sky getting brighter and brighter. They were so much clearer here than London, without the streetlamps and buildings and perennial rain clouds. Aziraphale hadn’t seen a night sky like this in centuries.

“Did you know stars are violent?” Aziraphale startled, even though Crowley’s voice was soft. “Really, really violent. That’s all they can be. Great big balls of fire, just burning all the time. End in an explosion. Start in explosions too, sort of. And they were the first things made, y’know? ‘Let there be light,’ and  _ boom.” _ Crowley lay back on the sand, fiddling with the bottle between her fingers. She looked like she was about to say something else, but as the seconds stretched on, Aziraphale sighed and reached out for the wine.

“Here, give that,” she said. “I don’t think I’m nearly drunk enough for this sort of conversation.”

“That’s a sentiment I can get behind,” Crowley replied, pulling herself onto an elbow to take a last swig of the wine. She frowned, then upended the bottle and shook it. When only a few drops fell onto the sand, Crowley made a face and went to snap, but Aziraphale noticed the brief glint of mischief in her eyes before she miracled another bottle into her hand.

“What did you do?” Aziraphale accused immediately.

“Nothing,” Crowley said, sounding very pleased with herself.

Aziraphale squinted at the bottle when it was passed, but there was no label and not nearly enough light to see inside. “This isn’t wine, is it.”

“Nope.”

“Are you going to tell me what it is?”

“Nope.”

Aziraphale gave a very put upon sigh and took a very cautious sip. She coughed. “Rum?” she asked, confused. “You don’t like rum. Why—oh you  _ horrible—” _

“Just trying to keep things in character, angel.” Crowley’s toothy grin shone in the starlight.

“You’re trying to get yourself smited, is what you’re doing.”

Crowley made a sympathetic sound and leaned in closer. “Pirate’s life not for you?” she asked understandingly.

Aziraphale kicked a wave of sand at her. “I hate you.”

Crowley’s grin never faltered as she rolled out of range again. When she decided Aziraphale wasn’t going to pitch another pile of sand at her, she reached for the rum bottle at her side. “Well, I’m not gonna let this go to waste, if you’re not gonna drink it—”

Aziraphale snatched it up and held it out of the demon’s reach. “I didn’t say that.”

Crowley’s laugh echoed over the water. Aziraphale was, not for the first time, glad the moonlight wasn’t bright enough to make her blush visible.

Crowley snapped again, and a bottle of her own appeared. She sat up again, just a touch closer this time, and held her rum out in expectation.

Aziraphale sighed, and clicked their bottles together in a wordless toast.


End file.
